Female of The Species
by Diespedes
Summary: A man wakes up to an unexpected visitor. Based on the poem by Rudyard Kipling. violence, language and mature themes. Oneshot


**The Female of the Species**

The night was dark; the moon was almost totally obscured by clouds. The light was faint but more than adequate for her purposes. She walked briskly across the lawn, stopping briefly by the back door but it proved no impediment to her inhuman strength.

She entered the house, her tread silent on the parquet floor. Sensitive ears picked up a snore coming from the rear of the house. She made her way towards the sound unerringly.

Gerald Campbell woke abruptly from a deep sleep. At the foot of his bed piercing the darkness was a pair of glowing yellow eyes. "Who's there? What do you want?" he demanded, his voice steady and confident – the sound of a man secure in the knowledge of his own importance.

The eyes continued to stare at him unblinkingly, the silence was deafening. Gerald heard the sound of his heart speed up against his will "I know a lot of important people – you'll leave now if you know what's good for you"

Still the shadowy figure in front of him did not reply. Unease growing Gerald reached out a hand to the lamp beside his bed. He flipped the switch. Light flooded the room revealing a petite black haired woman. His anxiety vanished, and he smirked "Well darling, for you I'll make an exception". He patted the space beside him "why don't you come over here and make yourself more comfortable"

She smiled suddenly and purred "I have a better idea". The smile filled Gerald with apprehension, though he had no idea why it should. The sight of a beautiful woman standing by his bed – by all appearances ready for him – was not something to be feared. He felt himself growing hard staring at her – the short black leather skirt leaving very little to the imagination.

"Why don't you tell me then" Gerald grinned at her, resting back against the headboard. He knew the pose emphasised his well-muscled torso. He had been told by female acquaintances that his bared chest combined with light blue eyes and blond hair made a very appealing picture.

She rolled up the cuffed sleeves and proceeded to unbutton the front of her red shirt. "We are going to play a little game of catch" Gerald's heart rate increased he had never been so aroused in his life. Each button released from its catch revealed more of the creamy pale skin beneath, until the curves of her full round breasts were visible.

He inhaled jerkily "you mean, you run and I catch you. Then fuck you until you scream"

She rounded the bed drawing closer, "Oh no, no Gerald. That's not at all how the game works. _You_ run. I catch, and then _you_ scream" Her words penetrated his haze, cooling his lust.

"Wh-what?" He stuttered in surprise and confusion.

"You heard me. You don't want me to repeat myself now, it will cut in to your head start." She lifted herself on top of a mahogany chest of draws, and crossing her slim legs began to slowly unzip the black heeled boots that ended just below her knees.

"What's going on" he demanded angrily

"Oh, come now Gerald, Tick-tock time is running out." She threw her boots to the ground, her eyes were shining yellow again. He peered at her – it had to be a trick of the light – no one had eyes like that. She grinned at him revealing a mouth full of sharp pointed teeth.

Gerald jumped back "god, what _IS_ that?"

"Your worst nightmare" The words were spoken in a low raspy voice. He could see the black pupils in her yellow eyes dilating. Her skin rippled, fine black hairs sprouting from her skin.

She stared at him with narrowed eyes and softly whispered a single word _"run"_. Gerald ran.

He took off for the garage struggling with the door. It wouldn't budge. A low growl sounded from his bedroom – adrenaline flooded his body. He had get out of the house now!

He noticed the back door open, the door handle crushed and distorted – the door splintered half hanging off its hinges. _Who was she?_ He sped through the door, sprinting towards the small wood backing on his property – he could cut through there – it was a shortcut to the main road, there would be other people there. He would be safe.

A high pitched howl split the air. Gerald ran faster, pyjama bottoms brushing against the damp grass, stones cutting into his bare feet. He suddenly had the disturbing sense of a presence behind him. He snuck a glance over his shoulder, there, a few meters behind him was a dark shape close to the ground – closing in fast.

Gerald ran into a small clearing in the woods, he glanced frantically around him. He was alone. He strained his ears, leaves rustled to his left, then the dry crackling of twigs behind him. He spun around, his foot catching on an exposed root. He fell backwards.

Then it was there. A few paces in front of him. A large black animal, like a dog – but bigger than any dog he had ever seen. Teeth bared, it snarled at him, yellow eyes lit with an unearthly light stared menacingly. "_Please…no…whatever you want….I have money…"_ Gerald panted pleading, sweat pouring off his body, somewhere inside he was aware that the woman in his bedroom and the animal were one and the same.

She came closer. She could smell the rank odour of his fear; she came closer inhaling deeply, the smell intoxicating. His heart was beating so fast, its rhythmic tempo beating against her eardrum.

He dragged his body back on his hands before getting to his feet. She let him go. He wouldn't get far and she wouldn't deprive herself of the pleasure of running him down.

He took off, stumbling through the trees. She came after him at a pacing lope, fast enough to push him hard, but no where near the speed she was capable of. It wouldn't be fun if she were to catch him _too_ quickly after all.

She heard a cry of pain and smelt the sweet coppery scent of blood in the air; finally her hunt was nearing its end. She leapt, landing on his back. Her nails leaving behind light bloody trails down his back and legs. She stepped back. She could smell the strong acrid ammonia of urine, she grinned wolfishly.

"Please don't hurt me" Gerald whimpered, a warm patch spreading across his crotch and running down his leg. She nipped at his heels – again forcing him to his feet.

He tried to run – get away from the terrifying monster, but he was so tired. By now he had come to realise that it was almost over. That there was no way he would leave the woods alive. Whatever her motives, the intent was crystal clear. She wanted him dead.

His last thoughts before he felt the brutal teeth rip open his chest, the razor sharp claws rending his flesh was _why me? What did I do to deserve this?_ Then the vicious pain hit, and he could think no more. His screams of agony echoed only to be absorbed by the trees. Then all was silent, except for the shattering of bones and rending of flesh as she revelled in her meal.

She arrived at home a few hours later, clean and again fully dressed. As she mounted the stairs she heard a soft whimpering, she ran quickly towards the sound.

There tossing in bed lay a young black haired girl in the midst of a nightmare. She sat on the bed beside her and softly stroked her hair. She bent down and kissed her forehead "Shhhh don't worry baby, mommy's here" the words were whispered softly against her silky head. The tiny figure stilled, deep even breathing indicating she was once again sleeping peacefully. She continued the stroking motion, smiling down at her child "The bad man will never touch you again, mommy made sure of it; I will always keep you safe. I promise."

_She who faces Death by torture for each life beneath her breast  
May not deal in doubt or pity—must not swerve for fact or jest.  
These be purely male diversions—not in these her honour dwells—  
She the Other Law we live by, is that Law and nothing else._

_She can bring no more to living than the powers that make her great  
As the Mother of the Infant and the Mistress of the Mate.  
And when Babe and Man are lacking and she strides unclaimed to claim  
Her right as femme (and baron), her equipment is the same._

_She is wedded to convictions—in default of grosser ties;  
Her contentions are her children, Heaven help him who denies!—  
He will meet no suave discussion, but the instant, white-hot, wild,  
Wakened female of the species warring as for spouse and child._

_Unprovoked and awful charges—even so the she-bear fights,  
Speech that drips, corrodes, and poisons—even so the cobra bites,  
Scientific vivisection of one nerve till it is raw  
And the victim writhes in anguish—like the Jesuit with the squaw!_

_So it comes that Man, the coward, when he gathers to confer  
With his fellow-braves in council, dare not leave a place for her  
Where, at war with Life and Conscience, he uplifts his erring hands  
To some God of Abstract Justice—which no woman understands._

_And Man knows it! Knows, moreover, that the Woman that God gave him  
Must command but may not govern—shall enthral but not enslave him.  
And She knows, because She warns him, and Her instincts never fail,  
That the Female of Her Species is more deadly than the Male. _

_Rudyard Kipling The Female of the Species_


End file.
